


A Sticky Situation

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Damn you ray, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2256117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a cold, lonely night near Matthew William's humble abode, and he figured he could possibly use some company. He knew that, because of the nature of the snowy night they were having, though, his company whom he'd invited would likely show up late if ever that night. So, to occupy himself, he began to make some pancakes for when said company arrived. Before he knew it, he found himself in his room, a bottle of pure maple syrup in one hand and a plate of pancakes  to his side, his other hand resting on top of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sticky Situation

It was a cold, lonely night near Matthew William's humble abode, and he figured he could possibly use some company. He knew that, because of the nature of the snowy night they were having, though, his company whom he'd invited would likely show up late if ever that night. So, to occupy himself, he began to make some pancakes for when said company arrived.

Which, hopefully, would be soon.

Never before had the man made so many pancakes in one sitting before that night. No, currently surrounding his nice, electric, four-burner stove were mountains of pancakes. At _least_ one hundred, in neat piles of ten and fifteen on various plates. And he still had batter left. So much batter. He figured he'd use up the boxes of batter he had left, and boy did he have a lot. He regretted this already. The smell of the pancakes were so strong now. So potent. So tiring. So sickening. So sickeningly... arousing.

Only once before in his life had he been physically aroused by the scent of pancakes. That was when he was young, and he had an embarrassing wet dream about Mrs Buttersworth. And it took place on a pancake bed....

Before he knew it, he found himself in his room, a bottle of pure maple syrup in one hand and a plate of pancakes to his side, his other hand resting ontop of them. He had since shed himself of his clothing. If his invited company wasn't coming, he figured visiting an old dream wouldn't hurt.

He had smothered himself in maple syrup. From the base of his chin, down his neck, across his relatively non-muscular chest, down his stomach, all the way to his waistline.

Yes.

Hell yes.

Hell.

Motherfucking.

Yes.

This was good. This was more than good. Slowly he began to place pancakes strategically on his sticky body. His goal was to cover himself in pancakes. Chin to waist. And then with another layer of syrup.

Soon. Soon he'd be a plate of pancakes. A human plate. And Mrs Buttersworth could eat off of him....

he had zoned out as he placed the pancakes down his chest and stomach, but when he was close to placing the final pancake, his bedroom door flew open.

He froze.

He froze for a long, long time. He refused to look up. _He knew who it was._

Before he could say anything to break the awkward silence, the man in the door gave a  
chuckle.  
"You're really hard for only having covered yourself in breakfast items," the American chuckled.

"S-Shut up! It wouldn't have had to come down to this had you showed up earlier!" Matthew stuttered, voice softer than usual. "Its not my fault I had to resort to other means of entertainment!"

"Dude you are naked and smothered in syrup. This has actually made your dick stand up. You need help," the man commented. "Luckily, I'm here!"

"Alfred, are you suggesting you are going to help me," Matthew deadpanned. "Honestly, you wouldn't need to help me if you just---"

He was cut off as Alfred began to slide his shirt off.

"Alfred. Alfred what--"

And again as the American crawled onto the bed, pushing the almost empty plate of pancakes to the side.

"I'm not done witht those y---"

And again as he began to eat the pancakes. Right off his body.

"A-Alfred--"

Alfred looked up from his position akin to a grazing cow, looking the Canadian dead in the eyes, syrup and pancake crumbs dripping from his chin. "You asked me to come over. You asked if I was down to fuck. This just gives us a scenario. How else are we going to clean you off?"

Matthew was dumbfounded. The American was so blunt. He was also very deadset in this whole idea, it seemed, as he resumed his cow-esque cleaning of the breakfast substances from his body. Admittedly, though, once Alfred got passed the pancake layer and down to the remaining syrup, it did feel pretty nice...

Eventually, the small Canadian gave out an even smaller moan, making the American smirk against his shoulder- where he had made it to by this point. "You held it in for that long?"

"I-It's weird to make noises when all you're doing is eating off of me," he mumbled, his face a shade of red akin to the hoodie he had shed some time ago in order to begint his plate-of-pancakes transformation.

"Dude we're about to have sex. You can moan."

"But--"

"You. Can. Moan."

"With your giving me permission this seems like it could be a very odd BDSM session."

This made Alfred laugh. Like, actually laugh. "Ah yes. Matthew I don't give you permission to moan until I lick every single drop of syrup off your body!" he declaired, a playful grin making its way onto his lips.

"A-Are you being serious?" Matthew asked hesitantly. Alfred just stared at him. After a moment, he gave an exasperated sigh.

"Matthew. Matthew why would I be serious about that. Of course I want to hear you moan"

"Alfred that is the most sexual thing you've ever said. And we've had sex before."

"Do you want me to keep eating the pancakes off of you or no," the American sighed. Matthew looked up at him before sighing.

"If you eat all these pancakes, you will inevitably throw up and or fall asleep before you can even get hard," he responded, leaving Alfred in shock, his jaw slack.

"That is the most sexual thing you've ever even thought," he finally mumbled.

"Not true," Matthew defended.

"So true," Alfred retorted.

"Not."

"True!"

"NOT."

"Do you want to fuck."

"Yes."

"Then shut up and let me kiss you."

And with that, the American gave up cleaning the Canadian off for now and moved to kiss him on the lips, the taste of Maple on his breath and tongue setting the scene for what would be the warmest part of the coldest night of that winter.

**Author's Note:**

> I deeply apologize. My friend Ray and I were shitting around on Skype and this idea came up and I couldn't resist writing it.... So yeah!  
> I hope you enjoyed this bullshit half-smut.


End file.
